


Play Nice

by obsidianlullaby



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Childhood Memories, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidianlullaby/pseuds/obsidianlullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Claudia and Talia were friends, and that has repercussions for their sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Nice

They acted like they’d never known each other.

It was easier for both of them, that way.

* * *

Stiles hated him. He hated, hated, _hated_ him.

“Start the car, or I’m gonna rip your throat out,” Stiles mimicked derisively. “With my teeth. My big scary _werewolf_ teeth.”

Stiles punched the wall. A stroke of pain shot up his arm, so he started kicking his chair instead.

Derek had almost died tonight.

Derek had almost died tonight.

Stiles buried his face in his pillow and _screamed_.

* * *

“Derek, this is Stiles,” Talia said.

“Why is he here?” Derek asked, eyeing Stiles suspiciously.

Stiles pouted. He liked Talia well enough, but he still didn’t want to be here. He’d much rather be at Scott’s.

“His mother and I thought the two of you might like to play together,” Talia said.

“But he’s so _little_ ,” Derek said. “Can’t he play with Cora?”

“No,” Talia said. “Cora has dance lessons. Peter’s going to watch the two of you while I’m driving your sister. Play nice.”

* * *

When Derek was shoving Stiles behind him, and when Stiles was desperately trying to keep Derek above the water, they weren’t concerned with keeping up appearances. They were just concerned with keeping each other alive.

* * *

“Lydia was my partner in class today,” Stiles said happily.

“Who’s Lydia?” Derek asked as he stacked Legos.

“The prettiest girl in the world,” Stiles sighed.

Derek paused, looked at Stiles for a long moment, then resumed playing with his Legos. “Oh.”

* * *

Stiles was outside the door of Derek’s loft.

He had a whole speech planned.

_You son of a bitch,_ he was going to say. _I thought you were dead. Scott nearly died of guilt. I thought you were dead!_

Okay, so it wasn’t _much_ of a speech. But still.

Who gave that _dick_ the right?

“I can hear you breathing, Stiles,” Derek called from within.

“I hate you,” Stiles hissed. Then he bolted.

* * *

“Thanks for watching him, Talia,” Stiles’s dad said. He looked exhausted.

“It’s my pleasure,” Talia said. “How--How’s Claudia?”

The Sheriff opened his mouth to speak, then looked at Stiles and seemed to think better of it. He shrugged.

Stiles knew his mother wasn’t doing well. He looked past Talia to where Derek was standing on the stairs.

_You okay?_ Derek mouthed.

Stiles shook his head in one swift motion.

Derek frowned.

* * *

“Stiles,” the nogitsune rasped. “He thinks you’re weak. He thinks you’re foolish. He thinks you’re nothing.”

“Maybe,” Stiles said.

* * *

Stiles couldn’t keep watching his dad cry.

He climbed out the window and started off down the street, but there was a rustling from the bushes behind him, and out popped Derek.

“Where are you going?” he asked, jogging over to fall into step beside Stiles.

“Scott’s,” Stiles said. “Melissa will let me stay.”

“It’s dangerous,” Derek said. “I’ll walk with you.”

“What are _you_ gonna do if someone attacks us?” Stiles asked.

Derek said nothing, just shoved his hands into his pockets.

He walked with him all the way to Scott’s, in silence.

When they got to the door, Stiles hesitated to knock. “Aren’t you gonna tell me you’re sorry ‘bout my mom?” he asked Derek.

“Do I need to tell you that?” Derek asked.

“Guess not.”

Derek stepped closer. “Stiles…” he said, reaching for the other boy’s hand.

Stiles pulled back.

* * *

“We need to find Lydia,” Scott said. “But I also need to know Stiles will be safe.”

“And you think he’ll be safe with me?” Derek asked.

Stiles scowled, but Scott nodded. “I know he will be.”

Derek locked eyes with Stiles. Stiles tried to instill as much animosity in his gaze as possible, but Derek just uncrossed his arms and opened the door wider.

“Okay,” Derek said. “He can stay here.”

Scott thanked Derek, hugged Stiles close, and left.

“I cannot believe you agreed to this,” Stiles said. “You are such a--”

“I was so scared,” Derek blurted out. Then his arms were around Stiles and he was burying his face in Stiles’s neck and choking out, “Stiles, _I was so scared_.”

They never touched like this, even when they were kids.

What gave Derek the right to touch him like this?

Stiles shoved him away. “How do you think I felt?”

“I know, being possessed must have been terrifying--”

“No, I mean, how do you think I felt when you _disappeared?_ You just vanished after the fire. Not a word, nothing!”

Derek blanched. “Stiles--”

“Shut _up!_ ” Stiles screamed. “I’m talking now!”

Derek gaped.

“You just--you just went away. Who said you could do that? And when you came back, it was for--for _revenge_. Which, I mean, great, revenge, awesome, but who said you could just _waltz back into town_ with your _stupid face_ and _not a single word for me_ and that _fucking smile_ that I haven’t seen since I was eleven and all those threats and--”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Derek shouted. “I’m sorry! When your mom died you had Scott and your dad. I had no one, I didn’t even know Laura was alive for the longest time, let alone Cora--”

Stiles punched him. Right in the face. The nose, specifically.

Derek reeled back and hissed. “What the hell?”

“You had me, asshole!” Stiles yelled. “You should’ve known... you always… had… me...” Stiles stared at the ground.

“Stiles,” Derek said, very quietly. “Don’t pull away this time, okay?”

“What are you--mmf!”

Derek’s mouth was soft and warm. His right hand rested on the back of Stiles’s head, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His left gently entangled itself with Stiles’s own hand.

Stiles pulled back. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me about you being a werewolf?” he demanded.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“You have a lot of making up to do,” Stiles warned. “It’s going to take a sincere apology and at least a little tongue.”


End file.
